


Synapses

by 1_sad_bean



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Drift Hangover, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Rating May Change, Trans Male Character, Trans Newton Geiszler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 05:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10824552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_sad_bean/pseuds/1_sad_bean
Summary: Newton is having a problem dealing with the drift hangover.





	Synapses

The backs of his eyelids were stained with the colours of the Anteverse. With every movement of his eye he saw brilliant blue streaks dash across the edges of his vision. He was exhausted.

 

> _She followed the tug of memories of homeworld, she could feel her limbs become weightless as she moved through the gravity column that allowed access to the portal._
> 
> _The creatures on the other side of the portal were strange, mechanical, like much of her own world but without life in their bones. She understood that the true inhabitants of this world were tiny and soft, no armoured skin to keep them safe so they used the mechanical creatures to defend themselves. But still. It was unsettling to fight these creatures without the passion of life in them. She could hear a sibling calling her, her thoughts turned to family. A flick of her tail and she was swimming, following the call of her family_
> 
> _The light was changing as she swam, it became darker despite swimming closer to the surface. He was getting tired, muscles aching without enough oxygen. He couldn’t breathe, his head wasn’t breaking the surface of the water, but this wasn’t water, it was too thick, he could feel movement on all sides of him, limbs of enormous size brushing against him, claws too close to fragile skin, his lungs were screaming, he opened his mouth, gasping and swallowed a thick mouthful of the liquid._  

 

Newt jolted upright. His legs tangled themselves in his sweat soaked sheet as he grasped at the edge of his makeshift bed and retched. Nothing came up except stomach acid, making his throat and lips burn. He tried to concentrate on stopping himself from shaking but he couldn’t make the memories of the dream leave him alone. 

He knew logically that he was just experiencing drawn out symptoms from the after affects of drifting with Otachi’s baby. He was unlucky enough to be the only one suffering so badly, Herman had told him that any lingering after affects had left him after approximately twenty-four hours. Three months later and Newt was becoming more and more certain that the drift might never leave him completely. He had lied during his medical when he had first returned to the Shatterdome after the breach closed, told the staff that he was fine, just worn out from all the excitement. He couldn’t stand seeing the concern on their faces. As soon as all the paperwork was finished and all the relevant odd jobs finished Newt had grabbed the first bag he could find in the mess of his room and left the Shatterdome for good. His phone had been ringing constantly after a few hours of his leaving, driving him mad until he snapped and threw it into the rubble of a nearby destroyed building.

Newt grabbed at his sheet, ramming it into his bag before swinging it over his shoulder and getting slowly to his feet. He had been sleeping in what used to be a school. Most of the walls had been destroyed but there was a corner of a room that had enough shelter to hide Newt from anyone passing by as well as from the weather. Hong Kong was mostly in ruins from the fights with the kaiju. With tenacious spirit however, the Chinese had already started rebuilding, buildings flowering into the skyline. Newt wasn’t sure what he was going to do once reconstruction had finished, he was relying on the wreaked buildings for free shelter, he supposed he would have to make do with whatever he could find when the time came. He wasn’t overly concerned.

Newt picked his way out of the school’s rubble and slipped into the busy crowds of the street. He hadn’t eaten for days and while he’d lost pretty much an appetite he once had, he was beginning to feel desperate. He followed the flow of the people into a market that felt familiar but he wasn’t able to place the familiarity. He pressed in close to a fruit stall, trying to blend with the paying customers as he snuck a hand to the edge of the displayed food. His fingers closed in around an orange and he slowly slipped it away, tucking it into his jacket pocket. He turned and walked away, trying not to rush so he wouldn’t bring attention to himself. A hand grabbed his arm, holding on painfully tight as a man spun him around, shouting in angry Cantonese at him. Newt tried to raise his hands in surrender but froze when he felt something sharp pressing into his side.

He let the man drag him through the masses of people and behind the fruit stall Newt had stolen from. The man took the knife from Newt’s side and pressed it against his neck instead. Newt pulled the orange from his pocket, offering it back to the angry man, “Take it! Take it! I’m sorry!” But the man seemed to understand as much English as Newt understood Cantonese. The man grabbed Newt’s arm and pulled it close as he brought the knife from Newt’s neck to his fingers. Newt understood clearly and tried to struggle. “I’m sorry!” He shouted, tugging his arm as hard as he could. The lining of his jacket sleeve gave way as Newt managed to slip his arm free. The shirt he was wearing underneath was torn in several places, making his tattoos plainly visible, the man stilled when he saw them.

Newt threw his hands up again, throwing in another apology before turning to run. He got about three steps before he was caught again, the man from the fruit stall had conjured up two other men and the three of them steered Newt away from the street and walked him a short block to plain door at the front of an unassuming building. He was pushed through it and led up a set of stairs, getting dizzier with each step up. He was exhausted, the struggling had spent energy he didn’t have to spare and as soon as they made it to the top of the staircase Newt passed out.

 

> _She could smell them all, packed in tight underground, they were pungent together like this but it did not matter, she had to find the one that had connected with homeworld. She could feel him close by, his terror reverberated through her in waves. She wasn’t used to the sensation, it was thrilling, like fighting. She followed the pull of the fear, slamming her feet against the ground until it gave away. There he was in amongst the others, he looked so similar to them but something about him glowed as she descended upon him, her tendrils feeling for him, desperate to make contact with this unusual creature._
> 
>  

Newt woke up screaming. He thrashed against the floor, feet slipping as he tried to push himself backwards away from the memory of the kaiju. Something grabbed his ankle. He yelled, kicking blindly at whatever had caught him. His arms were grabbed too and he was pinned to the floor, convulsing as he screamed. His heart was thundering in his chest. He couldn’t see even though his eyes were wide open, everything was blurred and moving too fast. Everything hurt but he screamed and struggled until he couldn’t any longer, laid on the floor still pinned down, too worn out to move. Eventually he managed to focus on where he was. People were holding him down, five all together, one on each limb and one holding his head. Someone huge was towering over him, glittering slightly. “Well, look what we have here. PPDC’s runaway scientist. You look like hell kid.”

Newt knew that voice, something in the back of his head stirred but he couldn’t grasp on to it. Everything was getting hazy again. He tried to think but his eyes rolled back and once again everything was black.

 

> _He was warm but the need to move was overwhelming him. He could feel the connection to his family in his mind, they were encouraging him, telling him to break free from the corpse of his mother and attack. He struggled, something was holding onto him but he fought to move forward. Towards his purpose. He broke free of the walls enclosing him but his advance was stopped. He was choking, he was confused. His mind was full of noise, panic and homeworld merging together. He was fading, he writhed, trying to free himself of the restriction around his throat. He collapsed, limbs giving up. He could hear his own lungs rattling as they fought to keep breathing._
> 
>  

Newt couldn’t move. He wanted to sit up and gulp down air but his wrists were tied to something above his head, something was securing him around his waist, his ankles tied down. His chest heaved as he hyperventilated. He tried to look around, hurting his neck by moving too quickly. His thoughts were rioting loudly but he was too worn out to even try to react to them. He wasn’t wearing his glasses so everything was diffused harshly, it was dimly lit wherever he was, there was a silhouette standing by him, saying something that Newt couldn’t make out. The person moved away, their voice fading with them.

Newt’s chest was tight, he wasn’t getting enough oxygen into his system. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to work on slowing down his breathing. If he kept hyperventilating he’d pass out again and he didn’t think he could cope with that again. It took some time but he managed to calm down, counting between breaths. He opened his eyes again, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Without his glasses his vision was poor at best, but Newt could make out a lamp somewhere near where he was laid. He seemed to be on a bed, the cushioning under him felt sinfully good after sleeping rough for so long. Everything else was too dark or far away to see clearly enough to understand.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to do my best to finish this... I don't have much luck with finishing chaptered work.


End file.
